Choose Your Adventure
by emonemotheturtle
Summary: Options for post ily scene
1. Chapter 1

Sherlock slowly walked up the steps to Molly Hooper's front door. His lungs felt shallow as he breathed in the cold night air. Finally he knocked softly on the door. Through the small window at the top of the door he saw Molly come around the corner and stop short when she saw him.

 _Molly, please._

She slowly stepped towards the door, her eyes never leaving his. They stood there, on either side of the door, looking bleakly at each other. Molly's lips were held in a taut line. Sherlock silently begged her to open the door, allow him to explain.

Finally, Molly opened the door to him hesitantly. She didn't trust him. She may never trust him again. Sherlock stepped into the warm light that filled her home. The door shut behind him.

The two sat at her kitchen counter with some tea.

"Molly," Sherlock breathed. "I want to talk about what happened earlier. The phone call."

"Sherlock, please," Molly whimpered.

"I want you to know the truth."

"The truth? Pure and simple?"

"The truth is rarely pure and never simple," the detective glanced down at the countertop. "But yes."

Molly was silent as he began.

"My sister Eurus, she set up this kind of game. Each room had a different challenge." Sherlock fidgeted with his mug. " And one of the rooms had a coffin" he met her gaze "a coffin for you."

Molly's lip flinched.

"The only way to save you was to call and make you say 'I love you'."

Molly felt a pang as she recalled their conversation that afternoon.

"Only after it was over, after you had said it, did she reveal that you had never been in any danger."

Molly stared into her lap. Sherlock shifted in his seat.

"Molly, I… I never wanted to hurt you."

She looked up at him now. Hot tears filled her eyes.

Sherlock stood up now. He felt a sort of desperate and unfamiliar agony fill him.

"Molly, you… you make me… you make me _feel_." His voice was rising but he couldn't bring it back down. " _You make me feel."_ His voice broke and Molly released the tears she had been holding back.

Sherlock returned to his spot next to Molly. He put his hands on her shoulders. "I understand if you never wish to see or speak to me again. I've caused you enough harm, Molly Hooper." He bent forward and kissed her cheek. "But I meant it as much as a high functioning sociopath ever could, " he confessed.

Molly let out an audible breath at those words.

He stood and walked towards the door. Before opening it, though, he stopped and turned back to her, unsure of himself for perhaps the first time in his life. "I am deeply sorry, Molly Hooper."

The door closed quietly behind him, and Molly once again sat alone in her kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

Sherlock slowly walked up the steps to Molly Hooper's front door. His lungs felt shallow as he breathed in the cold night air. For a moment he just stood there. He indulged in the warm glow of her home. He repeated to himself that there were no explosives, and Molly was perfectly safe. Finally he knocked softly on the door with his battered hand. Through the small window at the top of the door he saw Molly come around the corner and stop short when she saw him.

 _Molly, please._

She slowly stepped towards the door, her eyes never leaving his. They stood there, on either side of the door, looking bleakly at each other. Molly's lips were held in a taut line. Sherlock silently begged her to open the door, allow him to explain.

Molly's eyes were hollow. She didn't look especially angry, or sad, or _anything_. There was a sort of dull grief in her gaze. She was emotionally wiped, judging by the redness and bags under her eyes.

Sherlock's eyes were desperately searching her face. He tried to communicate what had really happened through his expression. His eyes were similarly red, with equally prominent bags. His mouth hung slightly agape, his breath visible as it clouded around him.

"I'm sorry" he whispered.

Molly turned and left him standing on her front step.


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as he was sure that John and Mycroft were looked after, Sherlock went home to 221B Baker Street. He slept upstairs in john's old room. That day had been utterly exhausting, and he felt numb, hollow. He was awoken the next morning by Mrs. Hudson.

"Sherlock, Molly is downstairs" she said gently.

"Molly" Sherlock mumbled. He thrashed in the bed, trying to fully awaken and orient himself. "Right, Molly" he repeated, recalling the phone call that Eurus had facilitated.

Sherlock clamored down the stairs, still in his robe. His wild eyes fell on the pathologist. She looked tired but was dressed and clean. Very much the opposite of Sherlock's unkempt hair and stubbled chin.

"Molly," Sherlock said dumbly.

"Hello, Sherlock" Molly replied quietly.

"Why don't you two sit in my kitchen, have a cuppa" Mrs. Hudson chimed in before leaving the two alone.

They sat in an uncomfortably expectant silence for a moment.

"Molly, I… I want to explain."

"I'm listening."

Sherlock told her the whole story. Absolutely everything that had occurred the previous day. Molly listened quietly, patiently. Sherlock couldn't read her reaction though. Her face was blank. Once he had finished she finally spoke.

"It's ok, you know," she started. "You don't have to love me. I understand what you did." Her small voice trembled ever so slightly, but she held her composure.

"Molly, you… I…" Sherlock stammered. "I do love you."

"Sherlock," she warned. "Please… don't lie to me."

"I meant it," Sherlock sighed. "I love you."


	4. Chapter 4

Life continued after Sherrinford. John and Sherlock went back to solving crimes, blogging, forgetting pants, etc. John noticed the declining number of body parts present in 221B, "What did Molly stop supplying specimens for you're experiments?"

Sherlock winced slightly at her name.

"Sherlock? What happened between you and Molly?"

"Nothing," Sherlock admitted. "I haven't spoken to her since… since then."

"Sherlock? Really? Why not? You have to talk to her. You have to explain."

"What am I supposed to say, John?" Sherlock turned on him. "Nothing I say can possibly be a kindness. And I've caused her enough pain."

"Silence isn't a kindness either," John insisted. "Saying you love her and then cutting her off isn't kind. It's cruel."

"So what do I do then? Everything causes more hurt for her. So what am I supposed to do?"

"Did you mean it?" John asked.

"Sentiment is a chemical defect…"

"No. Don't give me that crap," John shouted. "Did you mean it?"

"Yes," Sherlock croaked.

"Then get the bloody hell on with it, mate."


	5. Chapter 5

When Molly opened her front door the morning after her phone call with Sherlock, she found a letter tucked under the door knocker. She opened it.

Molly Hooper,

I want to explain what happened yesterday. My sister, Eurus, trapped John, Mycroft, and me in a prison called Sherrinford. She sent us through a series of rooms containing various tasks, challenges. One of the rooms had a coffin meant for you. The lid said 'I love you'. Eurus told me that I had to get you to say that or your flat would blow up. Once you had said it though, Eurus revealed that there were never any explosives in your flat.

I never wished you any harm, Molly. I am so deeply sorry for any heartache I caused. I thought you were in danger, and I wanted to save you.

I understand if you don't wish to be my friend or speak to me or see me, but there is something you should know.

I love you, Molly Hooper. Truly, I do.

SH

Molly sat on the front step. She was completely stunned. She pulled out her phone, dialed, and waited.

"I love you, too," she said when the detective answered his phone.


	6. Chapter 6

I meant it, Molly.

Please. Don't lie to me.

I love you. But if I let myself love you, you will always be in danger. Alone is what protects me. And you.

Can I decide that for myself?

No.

Then why tell me?

Because after everything I've put you through, I owe you the truth.


	7. Chapter 7

Sherlock ended up at Molly's front door.

"What do you want? Here to make fun of me again?" Molly answered the door without removing the chain.

"Please, Molly, I just want to explain what happened."

"Give me one good reason why I should let you in right now," she said bitterly.

"I can't. You have every right to hate me, to never speak to me again, to shut this door in my face right now. But I owe you the truth, Molly Hooper. And afterwards, if you wish, I will never bother you again."

Molly slowly unchained the door, silently letting Sherlock into her flat. They sat in her kitchen while Molly made them some tea.

"My sister, Eurus, she set up this kind of game. Each room had a different challenge." Sherlock explained. "And one of the rooms had a coffin" he met her gaze "a coffin meant for you."

Molly's lip twitched.

"There were cameras in your flat. I only had three minutes before she'd set off the explosives. She called you from my number, and the only way to save you was to make you say it."

Molly felt a pang as she recalled their conversation.

"Only after it was over, after you had said it, did she reveal that you had never been in any danger."

"You were trying to save my life," Molly processed the information he'd given her. "But you didn't mean it."

"Wha- I…" Sherlock shook his head trying to determine how best to proceed.

"The 'I love you'," she says, her voice small. "you didn't mean it."

It wasn't a question; she wasn't asking for a confirmation.

He wanted to tell her: that he'd meant it more than anything. He wanted to say it again, but because the last time he'd said it he'd hurt her in the absolute worst possible way, because he had hurt her so many times before, he doesn't.


	8. Chapter 8

Molly knew who was at her front door as soon as she heard the knock. Why on earth was he here? Hadn't she been through enough? She took a deep breath and opened the door.

"Molly…"

She couldn't speak. She was just too angry about what he had done.

She hit him. Hard.

Sherlock stumbled backward a step. The blow caught him off guard.

Molly moved to hit him again but Sherlock caught her wrist.

"Stop," he pleaded. "Please." His voice was hoarse and weak.

Molly couldn't hold back the hot tears stinging her eyes any longer but hated that she was crying. Sherlock wrapped his arms around her, and they stood there in her doorway for a long time.


End file.
